by A. G. Mayes
Good luck!
Ask and I’ll Answer,
Elodie
I woke up feeling hopeful. Finding the spices felt like a sign that things were going to get better. Maybe Aunt Erma would even come back today. I imagined her bustling around the kitchen. It was always so natural for her.
I admired the spotless kitchen and surveyed the contents of the refrigerator. For once, Stan had gotten most of my order right. Containers of cherries, blackberries, and blueberries lined the top three shelves. He had forgotten the lemons, so I had to scrap my idea to make lemon meringue pie today.
Flora called and apologized up and down when she told me that the she and Lena had to help Mr Barnes with a project so they wouldn’t be able to come in today.
‘We’ll each buy three pieces of pie tomorrow,’ she promised.
‘Let me know if you guys need any help with your project,’ I offered, even though she hadn’t told me what it was. I was a little relieved that I had a day to test my new secret ingredients before the Morning Pie Crew came in to judge.
I pretended I was Aunt Erma and all this baking stuff came naturally to me. I mixed together ingredients and rolled out pie crusts. It felt ever-so-slightly easier than before. I kept the box of spices sitting on the counter next to me. First, I made four cherry pies. I pulled a couple of bottles of spices out and smelled them before selecting Spice #4. It smelled a little like cinnamon and ginger. In my excitement, I sprinkled a healthy dose on the top of each pie. I noted on a piece of paper which spices I used in which pies. Next, I made blackberry pies. For those I selected Spice #7. I thought the cinnamon and nutmeg mix would bring out the flavors of the blackberries. I used an oatmeal, butter, brown sugar crumble topping on both the cherry and blackberry pies and put them in the oven before moving on to make banana cream and French silk pies.
As the fruit pies baked, delicious aromas filled the whole shop. Maybe I was getting the hang of this after all. I had sixteen pies ready to go by the time I was unlocking the front door.
The first customers of the day were a family of four. The mother’s red hair was reflected in the children and the father’s sandy brown hair was held back with a green baseball cap. The parents were both busy on their cell phones as the little boy and girl vied for their attention. They all ordered a slice of the cherry pie. Then they crowded around a table as I served their pie, all the while the kids loudly arguing over how they were going to spend the rest of their day. The little girl, who couldn’t have been more than five, would punctuate the end of every sentence with a toss of her pigtails. Things got quiet when I set their pie in front of them, and the parents lowered their phones as they took their first bite. The only sound was the occasional, ‘Mmm,’ that the little girl let out.
I headed back towards the kitchen, but curiosity got the best of me, and I stayed out front to see if they were going to finish their pie. Not wanting to seem too creepy, I pretended to arrange the pies in the front case. They were about halfway through their pieces when the laughter began. It started with the dad - a little chuckle that turned into a full-on belly laugh. The mom looked at him surprised for a second, then she burst into a fit of giggles and soon tears were running down her cheeks. Both children had thrown their heads back and were laughing so loudly it almost sounded fake. I crouched down a little lower behind the bakery case. What was wrong with this family?
They tried to keep eating their pie, but every bite was interrupted by more laughter. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, as though they were laughing at me, I slunk back into the kitchen. I didn’t dare go too far just in case their erratic behavior escalated.
Finally, they finished their pie. I went back out front to clean up as they headed for the door, gasping for air.
‘I don’t know what it is, we just can’t stop laughing,’ the red-faced dad said to me.
‘Enjoy your day,’ was all I could respond. Despite the strangeness of the family, I was pleased to see that they had eaten every crumb on their plate. The spices must be the secret ingredient after all!
I remembered one year when my parents had fought with Aunt Erma about something ‘grown up’ before Christmas dinner. Everyone had eaten in complete silence, except for me who kept asking what time Santa would come. ‘When you’re asleep,’ Aunt Erma finally responded, and my mother let out an angry sigh. After dinner, pie was served and within a few bites my mom and Aunt Erma were giggling and sharing stories about their ice-skating adventures when they were kids. My dad shared a funny story about seeing Santa when he was about my age. Everyone was laughing, and I felt warm and happy.
A few minutes after the giggle family left, a middle-aged man in a blue cabbie hat wandered in. After seriously pondering the bakery case for a minute, he ordered a piece of blackberry pie. He sat at the table by the window, chewing each bite slowly as he stared out the window. I wandered back into the kitchen to pick out some recipes for tomorrow. As I debated between coconut cream or peanut butter cream, I heard a soft singing coming from out front. I froze for a second as it grew louder. I went out front. The man was grasping the shiny napkin holder and serenading it with an enthusiastic, albeit off-key, rendition of ‘My Heart Will Go On.’
A young couple opened the door, but when they saw the man singing to the napkin holder they quickly backed out. Not willing to lose any business, I chased after them as the man held the last note of the song.
‘Please, come back in,’ I said when I caught up to them a couple shops down the street. They still looked a little wide-eyed. ‘He’s just an actor rehearsing for a part. He’s very committed. You know how actors can be.’
They seemed to accept my explanation and followed me back. ‘Good, I really had a pie craving,’ the young man said.
‘He just caught us a little off guard,’ the young woman said with a laugh.
‘You guys from out of town?’ I asked. They both nodded. ‘Yeah, we have some characters here. Everyone’s very friendly though.’
I led them through the front door, and much to my relief the man wasn’t singing. Instead he was talking to the napkin holder in a soft, loving voice.
‘You’re more beautiful than a sunset,’ he cooed.
The young couple ordered a couple pieces of banana cream pie and squished themselves as far away into the back corner as they could. I think they were afraid they might catch his craziness.
The man continued to talk to his napkin holder, and the couple talked to each other in low voices, frequently casting glances at the man that ranged from curious to anxious. I didn’t want to leave them alone with Mr Napkin, so I stayed out front wiping off the same spot on the display case.
Soon the couple’s voices grew louder, and I was startled out of the daydream I was having in which I was running a very successful pie shop where everything was going as it was supposed to.
‘You always sing so loudly in the bathroom. Singing ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’ at the top of your lungs. What’s up with that? Learn a new song!’ the man said to the woman.
‘I have to sing loudly to drown out the sound of your feet clomping on the floor. You don’t weigh 3,000 pounds. How do you manage to walk that loudly?’ she spat back at him.
‘You’re probably hearing me trip over the shoes you always leave in the middle of the living room.’
‘You chew so slowly!’
‘You drink water too loudly!’
‘You say “thank you” too much!’
I was staring at them with open curiosity now.
The man at the other table had stopped singing and now clutched the napkin holder close to his chest as though to shield it from the hostility. He got up and went over to the other man and nudged him.
‘Hey, you need a woman like this in your life,’ he loudly whispered, holding up the napkin holder.
The woman got up and stormed out, knocking over a chair in her haste to leave.
‘She’s never left me,’ the man with the napkin holder said.
After a b
rief hesitation, the other guy got up and went after the girl. The napkin holder guy went back to stroking the side of his napkin holder unfazed. He finished reciting a poem and looked at me.
‘Would you mind if I take her home with me?’ He held up the napkin dispenser.
‘Please do. You two have clearly bonded,’ I told him. I decided I’d rather buy a new napkin holder than incur the wrath of such a delusional man. I glanced around for a second after he left, half expecting a camera crew from one of those prankster shows to come popping in.
I was thrilled to finally have a steady stream of customers, most of whom took their pie to go. They said the smell from the street drew them in. Maybe I wouldn’t run the shop into the ground after all.
I was happily exhausted when the afternoon lull hit. I sat at the desk in the kitchen with my feet propped up on an old cardboard box and drank coffee while reading recipe books. The bell over the front door rang. I reluctantly stood on my sore feet, not sure I was ready to deal with another nutty customer quite yet. I was relieved to see that it was Henry.
‘Hey, I’m glad to see you,’ I said.
‘Oh yeah?’ He looked so flattered I didn’t have the heart to tell him that it was because I needed a little normal in my day. ‘Tough day at the office?’
I smiled. ‘You could say that! What can I get for you today?’
He held up a book in his hand. I recognized it as one of Holly’s books. I hadn’t pegged him as a romance reader. ‘Well, I’m on break, so I thought I’d read while eating a piece of pie for myself first.’ He pondered the display case for a minute. ‘How about a slice of French silk.’
I scooped his piece and left him to his book. After fifteen minutes, I popped back out front to see if he was ready to order pies to bring back to work.
‘How’s everything going out here?’
‘Just wonderful. The pie was delicious!’
I was pleased to see that he had completely cleaned his plate, possibly even licked it clean. I smiled a little and grabbed his plate off the table.
‘Oh no, let me do that for you.’ He pulled the plate out of my hand and headed back towards the kitchen.
‘Um, Henry,’ I said as I followed him back to the kitchen. ‘I can do it. Really. I’m sure you have work to get back to.’ But he was already washing his plate. Well, I tried, I thought as I went to make a fresh pot of coffee.
Henry looked up and saw me heading for the coffee pot. He dropped the plate, it clattered in the bottom of the sink, and he rushed over to my side with soap suds still on his hands.
‘Are you making coffee?’ he asked eagerly. ‘I can do that for you!’
‘Really, it’s OK, Henry. I love making coffee! And drinking it,’ I said with a laugh. He’d already wiped his hands dry on a nearby towel and was cleaning out the old coffee from the pot. Wow, he was acting strangely. I wondered if someone had slipped him some medication at the nursing home. ‘Henry, the five cups of coffee I had earlier are catching up to me. I’m just going to run back to the bathroom real quick.’
‘Oh, I can do that for you!’ He dropped the bag of coffee.
‘No!’ I practically yelled at him. This had just gone from pretty weird to really weird. He looked a little startled, but just went back to his coffee making. I fled to the back. First, I went to the bathroom. I went quickly, afraid that Henry would bulldoze through the door after he finished making coffee to help me wash my hands. When I came out, I grabbed my cell phone and called Holly.
‘Hey Pie Lady,’ she answered the phone on the second ring.
‘Something strange is happening,’ I whispered, not even bothering with a greeting.
‘What?’
I gave her a brief account of my day so far. I was just finishing the part about Henry when he rushed into the kitchen carrying a cup of coffee.
‘Here.’ He handed it to me. ‘Do you have phone calls to make? I can do that for you!’ He reached for my phone.
‘I’ll be right over,’ I heard Holly say before Henry grabbed the phone from my hand.
‘Who do you need to call?’ Henry asked, his finger poised to dial.
‘No one,’ I grabbed my phone back. ‘I was just about to mop the floors and make dinner.’
‘No, no, let me do that for you.’ He headed for the closet to grab the mop.
Don’t judge me. If there was going to be a crazy man in the store, I figured I might as well take advantage of it a little bit. As he passed by the oven, he turned it on. I wondered what he’d make for dinner.
‘Sit down,’ he said as he filled the bucket with hot water. I still had the coffee that he’d given me in my hand, so I took it out front and waited for Holly. Henry was still mopping (sadly, no dinner yet) when Holly arrived.
‘So, interesting day?’ she smiled.
‘You could say that!’ I sighed.
‘I’m going to go talk to Henry in the back for a minute.’ She grabbed Henry, pulled the mop out of his hand, despite his protests, and dragged him back into the kitchen. Being the nosy person that I am, I tried to listen. They were rudely quiet though, and all I heard was a strange sound, like popcorn popping. A few minutes later they both emerged from the kitchen. Henry looked a little confused.
‘Sorry, Susie. I don’t know what got into me.’
‘No problem,’ I said.
‘I’ll get him out of your hair.’ Holly guided him towards the door. ‘I think he’s just really sleep deprived.’
Henry nodded feebly as he headed out the door.
‘See ya,’ I called.
Violet powered through the door just before closing time.
‘Can I get you some pie?’ I asked, even though I knew what the answer would be.
‘Is Erma back yet?’ She ignored my question.
I shook my head.
She pursed her lips. ‘I don’t think you’re taking this seriously.’
‘Taking what seriously?’ This woman was a mystery to me.
She narrowed her eyes, but nothing else on her body moved.
‘Are you sure you don’t want some pie?’ I asked, gesturing to the display case. I knew the healing power of pie.
‘I need to smell the pies,’ she said, ignoring my question.
‘Um, OK.’
She came around, and I opened the display case for her. She pulled each one out and took a big whiff. ‘What did you put in them?’ she demanded.
‘Nothing,’ I said innocently.
‘I need to confiscate these,’ she said. She began to gather the remaining slices of pie. There was only a handful of slices after the busy day I’d had.
‘All of them?’ my voice came out a little squeaky. ‘Why?’
‘You haven’t been following the regulations. We might have to shut this place down until we can track Erma down.’ Her sharp words took my breath away.
‘What?’ A thousand thoughts raced through my mind. How could I have messed this up so quickly?
‘Erma needs to take our allegations seriously and be here to answer for them,’ Violet continued. She dumped the pieces of pie out of their tins and into a plastic bag she pulled out of her briefcase. I was tempted to ring them up on the cash register and try to charge her for the pie. She spun on her heel to leave.
‘Wait!’ I raced out from behind the counter and grabbed her arm.
Violet stiffened even more under my hands and she looked at me sharply like she might punch me. ‘What?’ Her voice was cold.
All I could hear in my brain was static. ‘You can’t close down the pie shop,’ I pleaded with her. She looked me up and down. ‘You’re at least required to give the proprietor written reason for a forced shutdown.’ I tried to sound official, like I knew what I was talking about, and it seemed to work.
‘Fine,’ she said, but her tone made it sound like it was anything but. ‘We’ll hold off shutting the place down.’ She turned to leave. ‘For now,’ she added before storming out the door.
I breathed a sigh of relief. I clos
ed up the shop and trudged upstairs. Mitzy glared at me when I walked in to show her disapproval at my recent neglect. I took her on a long walk. I noticed Flora on the other side of the town square. I was going to go say hello, but I realized she was talking to Violet. I couldn’t see Flora’s face, but she was gesturing emphatically. Violet’s expression remained neutral. At the end of their conversation, Violet nodded once, and they both went their separate ways. Flora was gone by the time we walked across the square.
Back at the apartment, I tried to buy Mitzy’s affection by giving her a couple slices of apple as a treat and throwing her squeaky toy around, but she really knew how to hold a grudge.
Drink. I needed one. Mitzy watched with wide eyes as I turned to leave her yet again.
‘I’ll be back soon,’ I promised, wishing she didn’t have the power to make me feel so guilty. ‘Maybe I can pick up some extra treats on the way home.’ That seemed to perk her up a bit.
Sal’s was quiet. Just a few regulars scattered around. I sat on a stool at the bar and let my head drop into my arms.
‘Here, you look like you could use this.’ Sal slid a beer across the bar.
‘Thanks.’ I looked up and grabbed the pint.
He stood in front of me wiping down the bar. ‘Rough day?’ he asked, clinching the cliché.
‘Weird day,’ I said.
‘Weird is what we do best around here,’ he said.
A tall scruffy guy in a blue baseball cap sidled up to the bar to order a drink, and Sal went over to serve him. I sipped my beer and watched the football game on the television without really seeing it.
I could sense someone standing behind me, and I turned to see Alice. Inwardly, I groaned. Outwardly, I gave her a simple head nod, which apparently she took as an invitation to sit down next to me. I was annoyed that she smelled like cookies.
‘How’d things go at the pie shop today?’ Her tone was light, almost friendly.
